Page 76 of The Weight Of It All
I’m pretty sure I turned a stroke-inducing shade of red. “Oh.”
“That’s a good thing, Henry,” she offered softly. Then, thankfully, she changed subjects. “So, you ready for the Bay Run this weekend?”
“Do you mean, have I prepared my last will and testament?”
Emily laughed at that. “It won’t be that bad. And Reed wouldn’t have suggested it if he didn’t think you could do it.”
“We’ll see. I should ask though if the ambulance service will drive behind me, you know like they do at the horse races?”
“There’s a café about half way.”
“Ooh,” I brightened. “Coffee. Defibrillation. Same thing really.”
“You’re not having coffee half way,” Reed said, walking over to us. His smile was mesmerising, and I’m pretty sure this was the smile Emily had talked about: the one he saved just for me. It made my heart miss a beat, speaking ofdefibrillation.
I looked up at him and sighed. “Hey.”
He fisted his singlet top at his sides, like it was all he could do not to touch me. “Hey.”
“Oh God, you two are just too cute,” Emily said. Then she inhaled deeply, like she could smell something bad, and fanned her face. “Oh sweet Jesus, the testosterone. I’m drowning in it. Can you two please resolve the unresolved issue you have going on. You’re killing me.”
Reed chuckled at her. “You’re welcome.” Then he nodded pointedly at the treadmills. “You ready to run three Ks?”
“I liked Emily’s suggestion better. Just so you know.” Unresolved sexual tension was my new favourite thing. Actually, scrap that. Reed’s singlet top was my new favourite thing.
Reed pulled on the hem and looked down at it. “You like it?”
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Just the part about the singlet or the part with the sexual tension as well?”
He grinned. “Just the singlet.”
“Oh, good. I’d hate for it to be embarrassing or anything.”
Reed just grinned, but Emily laughed for a solid five minutes. I think I’d passed the one kilometre mark on the treadmill and she was still chuckling.
Reed stood at my side, looking all relaxed and gorgeous while I puffed and panted and sweated my way through the run. “Looking good, Henry,” he said encouragingly. “You’re doing it easy.”
I waved him off because I couldn’t run and talk at the same time. But when the treadmill finally beeped and slowed, I gladly got off and wiped my face down with my towel. My legs were a bit wobbly but nowhere near as bad as they were when I first started this whole exercisefiasco.
“Come sit down,” Reed said, leading me toward the weight benches.
“Do I look that bad? Because I know I joke about it, but I don’t think I’m actually going to fall over and die.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Not at all. I just want you to rest for five minutes before we start with the strength part.” He waited for me to sit, then sat beside me. “So, your dinner last night was good?”
We’d texted most of the evening, talking about our day at work. I’d told him of the pumpkin and cranberry bread Dee had brought in for Monday morning tea bring-along and how I’d chatted with her, then Valerie and Fariq, two people at work I’d never spoken to before. I made a stir-fry for dinner and sent him a photo of it. “Yeah it was.” His responding picture was of him, legs extended to the coffee table, a bowl of pasta and veggies on his lap. “Though I preferred the look of yours. Your dinner looked good too.”
He chuckled, then went quiet for a minute. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Are you still happy for me to be your personal trainer?”
I stared at him. “What?”
